The Bad Days
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Oneshot. Postseries. There are the good days, the wonderful, happy days...but then there are the bad days. Non-Elricest.


**Author's Note: I got this vague, random idea while reading another fic a while back, and just had to get it out. I'm not particularly happy with this, but it is what it is and at least the plot bunny is quiet now.**

There were the good days. Days when he would laugh, tease Winry, chase Den around the yard, spar on the pretense of checking Al's reflexes and strength. He would pour himself a glass of lemonade and sprawl under a tree, reading until he fell asleep with a contented smile on his face. He would stare at the back of Winry's head with a funny little smile, and Al would dare to think he was happy.

Then there were the bad days.

They always seemed to come right after the days when he seemed the happiest, like he was coming down from a sugar rush. He would be in high spirits at dinner, joking and eating with gusto, then tickle Al just to hear him laugh and rush off to bed, taking the steps two at a time and appearing to be fast asleep by the time Al entered their room. But the next morning, he wouldn't wake up for hours. He would just sleep and sleep and _sleep,_ and sometimes Al would peek in and catch him just lying there, staring at the ceiling or the wall and not showing the slightest inclination to get up.

When he finally _did_ get up on these days, he would pick at his food, respond to everyone with grunts or monosyllabic words, and wander around aimlessly all day. When Granny Pinako gave him some chores, he would stop halfway through and gaze blankly at the horizon. He would start trudging down the hill and not come back until the sun had nearly disappeared. He would sit on the front steps and stare at his hands.

Al's gut twisted inside him whenever this happened. It was obvious, wasn't it? Ed was regretting what he'd given up to bring his little brother back. He wanted alchemy again, he wanted a purpose to his life. What was the Full Metal Alchemist without alchemy?

_And I took that from him._ Al hated himself.

But worse than that, Al was beginning to realize that he hated his brother. What right did _Ed_ have to stain his newfound happiness like this? He'd been dreaming of this for four long years – having a body again, being able to sleep and eat and feel the whole world, relaxing at last with the Rockbells. The only piece missing from this puzzle of happiness was his stupid, selfish brother.

He felt horrible for thinking like that when he knew how much his brother had given up for him, but the more guilty he felt, the angrier he became at the brother who made him feel all of these horrible things. He stewed in this mass of confused feelings for two months after their return home, until finally he couldn't take it anymore.

Al stormed out of the house and stomped off to Ed's favorite tree. Edward was standing under it, gazing vaguely at the stormclouds brewing off to the west. He hadn't even bothered to braid his hair; it waved in a golden tangle, several strands stuck in the edge of Ed's mouth. He didn't even move them, and somehow this made Al the angriest of all. He grabbed the arm he had given up his soul to reclaim and roughly turned his brother to face him.

It took a lot to get Al riled up, but when he did he could yell and carry on as loudly as his brother. "What's _wrong_ with you?" he exploded. "What right do you have to be depressed at a time like this? You're supposed to be happy – we're _all_ supposed to be happy! Why do you always have to ruin everything?"

Ed hadn't moved except to watch his little brother's tirade, and even that didn't seem able to stoke up any kind of emotion in his listless eyes. "Yeah," he said softly, ever so gently prying Al's fingers from his arm. "You're right. I ruin everything. I should just go."

He actually turned to leave, but Al grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back around so he would have to look into his brother's eyes. "What's the matter? Everything's going exactly like you always hoped it would! We _made_ it, Brother! We've got our bodies back, we're back home, Winry's here..." He released his brother and took a step back. "Or are you sorry we're here now? Do you wish you hadn't brought me back?"

Finally he got a reaction; Ed recoiled with a look akin to horror. "What? No, of course not!"

"Then _why?_ Why do you act like you wish you didn't exist?"

"Because..." He sighed and looked away. "You've got your body back now. I've fulfilled my promise, and now we're even. You can do whatever you want now. You don't need me anymore."

Al punched him, and Ed was so surprised he fell down. He scrambled to a sitting position, clutching his jaw. "What the heck was that for?!" he demanded.

"I'll always need you, idiot!" Al shouted, kicking at his side so Ed had to roll over to avoid him. "You're my _brother!_ This wasn't a _business transaction;_ you didn't just hold up your end of the bargain and now we're even! I'm going to need my brother for the rest of my _life,_ so stop thinking dumb things like that!"

For a moment, Ed just sat there, looking stunned. Then his face twisted in a scowl and he growled, "Stop calling your older brother an idiot!" He tackled Al's legs and for the next few minutes, their argument was translated into an impromptu wrestling match. Finally Al managed to get the upper hand by twisting Ed's right arm behind him, and as usual, he won.

Al sat triumphantly in front of his brother, crossing his arms and glaring at him. Ed spat grass and hair out of his mouth, then smiled sheepishly. "Well...you win, Al. I was wrong. Sorry."

Just as Al was opening his mouth to reply, Ed suddenly sprang to his feet, rapped Al on top of the head, and yelled, "Last one home's a rotten egg!"

"Hey!" Al scrambled to his feet, but Ed was already sprinting up the hill. He raced after his brother, even though he knew Ed would get there first. Big brothers usually win the race, but only because their little brothers goad them on in the first place.


End file.
